Chuuya is sitting at the bar, drinking wine while texting on his phone—texting Dazai. All the messages have an obvious angry undertone, but some of the messages have a hint of sorrow and longing.

Dazai hasn’t responded to any of his messages—leaving him on read.

You, Dazai, come into the bar and sit by him. He looks at you, with tears in his eyes.

“What the fuck do you want?! You can come here, but you can’t even reply to my messages?!”